


Candles in Sunlight

by divagonzo



Series: Citrus Basket Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Citrus basket series, F/M, plenty of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4712372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>prompted request:</b> Can you write a fic where Hermione gives Ron a blowjob for the first Time ? If that prompt isn't a warning of the content, I dunno what is. <i>DG</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Candles in Sunlight

* * *

_“You have no idea what I am thinking!”_

_“So quit yelling and tell me._ ” 

_Hermione looked at Ron – fired up, flushed along his face and neck, his ears burning up alongside the rest of him. But her breath caught when she saw his trousers, raging right alongside the rest of him._

_“Damn it, Hermione, I am sick and tired of every single thing in my life – “_

_“Ron, shut it.”_

_“No, damn it, I won’t. I have just as much right to say that I’m bloody well beastly about what happened! How could you – “_

_“I didn’t!” Hermione stalked over to where he was raging, next to the expansive bed they shared when she wasn’t in school. She stood under his chin and grabbed his cock firmly._

_“Hermione!” He rose up onto his sock clad tiptoes trying to get away from her hand._

_“You will bloody well listen to what I have to say, Ron. Your sister was drunk on elf made wine. She drank two sips of half a glass and went mental. That’s not normal behavior, you git, so quit trying to fuck things up between them! I already took care of it so tearing into her again won’t do any good.”_

_“Hermione! She –“_

_“I know exactly what happened. I was there, remember? I’m the one humiliated, along with Ginny, you git.” She squeezed him a touch harder and he squeaked. “I’m not throwing you over the side, whatever happens. I’m not going anywhere!”_

Hermione opened her eyes in the dim twilight of their room, illuminated by streetlamps outside and one lone candle that had burned down almost to the base. 

Deep rumbling sores that were close to melodic soothed her panic for the half second that she was lost in the bedclothes. He snored and her heart settled back into her chest, dislodging from her throat. 

He would continue to sleep for a while, at least until half eight when he’d rush out to help George with Christmas Eve shoppers in the store. His plans left her with time today to see her parents and give them gifts that they might or might not want. Knowing her Mum, it could be received coldly, which she expected, or have it thrown back at her with even more recriminations. 

With Mum, anything was possible. The letters from home demonstrated that, painfully. 

But what would she do with the ginger lover lying next to her in their double bed? His angry words from yesterday still peppered her memories, and with good reason. He wasn’t angry at her but at the situation. She worked diligently to diffuse it, including her own actions called into question. 

They rowed until she grew sick of his accusations. He said so much she thought he’d been given Veritiserum – if anything he was saying had been true. Since it wasn’t, she fought back. 

They’d rowed for hours before she grew frustrated with his jealousy and thought of the way to end it, once and for all. 

“You’re mental if you think I am leaving you! I want you, you jealous sod!” 

Her face bloomed at the memory of her crass statement that changed his attitude. Her skin grew almost warm thinking of how she grabbed him so brazenly to make him relent during their row. 

Hermione rolled over and felt his bare skin next to hers. The hairs on his hips and legs tickled slightly this early in the morning but last night, they stood on end for her while she rode him like a prize winning steed. 

Hermione rolled over and felt him next to her skin. The hairs on his hips and legs tickled slightly this early in the morning but last night, they stood on end for her while she rode him to completion. He, of course, had her melting into a puddle of goo way before he bellowed her name in their room before passing out for the night. 

Then why did she feel so… unfulfilled this morning? 

Hermione ran her hand over his hip and reached further, feeling the hairs on his bum standing up under her touch. She ran her hand further down his hip, feeling the expanse of leg. She pulled her hand back up and let it drift over the hairs on his hips into smooth skin on his back. She worked her hand up his back, scratching gently across the sinew and muscles of his shoulders, into his slightly over-long hair. 

Unfulfilled might be too strong a feeling, at least when it came to making love to Ron Weasley. Empty didn’t work either, not with his roaring passion and piston hips, much less his gifted endowment. He certainly was quite the man she hoped he’d grow into, mentally, emotionally, and certainly physically. 

Her fantasies only got better after seeing him last night. 

She ran her fingers through the hair on top of his hips again. 

Some of the girls talked at school. She kept quiet except in her room, with Ginny and Luna. She couldn’t admit that Ron Weasley was a fantastic lover, even if he was a prat sometimes. No one would believe her, that he was so talented in ways that made her quiver with lust. 

He growled in his sleep and flopped over onto his back. She saw in the dim candlelight that he was awake yet still fast asleep. 

Before last night, they were intimate two months prior. He was due to leave for training the next day, after the first Hogsmeade weekend. He took off a few hours from George to visit while Gryffindor was playing Slytherin. 

She couldn’t even call it making love because it was far from the best circumstances. It was fast, dirty, rushed and so bloody thrilling, not to mention the absolute possibility of them being caught out under the bleachers. She needed him and he needed her and ten minutes was all they could afford to be gone during the match. 

Since that rendezvous, he was off at training, somewhere where owls were screened and the replies back were answered in the most generic terms. He replied as best as possible. 

But this morning, while he was snoring to wake Harry downstairs, she was stuck in a bit of a conundrum. 

See, she never _really_ apologized for what happened, even if it wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t sorry for standing up for herself against his irrational jealousy. Ron certainly did, after he bellowed to raise the roof on the house. He continued to apologize when she rolled them over and continued to ride him for another twenty minutes, to justify her pleasure from his antics. 

She ran her hands through his hair, watching it dance under her fingertips in the candlelight. He growled again, still fast asleep. He squirmed in the bed and watched the bedclothes move along his skin. Gooseflesh popped up along his chest where her hand drifted across his warm skin. Compared to her icy fingers, his skin was fire, warmth, home. 

She snuggled deeper under the goose-down comforter and quilts over the bedclothes and ran her hand down the length of his torso to his very impatient member, thudding in time with his heartbeat. _‘I wonder’_ as she reached for his penis and gently grasped it. He thrust up unintentionally in her small hand. 

She gripped wide and he thrust. “’ermione,” he moaned again. 

She reached her other hand further under the covers and ran her fingers over his bollocks. 

“Shite, feels good,” he moaned again. “Suck it.” 

She stopped instantly. 

He settled back down into a roaring snore. 

Hermione curled into his side and put her chilly hand across his stomach. “Have I never?” He squirmed under her cold fingertips, turning on his side to get away from her chilly hand. 

It’s not like she didn’t know about Ron. They’d shagged quite often before she went back to school. And he’d been diligent in satisfying her once he figured out on their bathroom floor what she needed to have a satisfying orgasm. 

He was a tender lover but also a chronically randy one, shagging so much while trying out so many things, including a few ideas of her own. 

But there was something he’d never asked of her. 

She offered one time, back in Australia but he snogged her knickers off and they were shagging before she seemingly take another breath. 

Maybe she could give that to him, as her way of saying _‘You’re it for me._ ’ Sucking on such intimate flesh would be pretty committed, right? Even Ron wouldn’t mistake that gesture of affection? 

He snored again and she made her choice. 

Hermione slipped further under the covers and snaked her hand across his bony hip to his diminished length and stroked him. He groaned and rolled back towards her. She used her knee to nudge his thighs wider. He did and she ran her hands up and down his length of thigh, feeling the bedclothes twitch again even harder. She reached further across his hips and pressed her hand into the crevice of his other hip, tracing the faint outline of his testicles along his thigh. 

He moaned, loud. 

“Here’s to nothing,” she said to herself before leaning over his hip and taking his now turgid penis in her mouth. 

“Oh fuck yes,” He moaned into their room. “’ermione,” he groaned, “so good.” 

She gripped him at the base and squeezed slightly while she felt the foreskin pull back from the bell at the top. 

“Shite, yes, fuck,” he nattered. She stroked him, pulling the skin down the shaft and sucked on him again. He thrust into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat at first before she pulled back just slightly, sucking on him a touch harder. She ran her tongue over the bell at the end and around the crown. 

Two large hands, covered in ginger hairs and plenty of freckles, threaded into her sleep-mussed hair. “Don’t stop, fuck, yes, right there,” he prattled on in growing epithets and Ron-gibberish. He thrust again but she was ready, using her other hand that was playing with his bollocks to push his rather bony hip into the bed. She moved without losing her rhythm and slid between his thighs and put more of his extremely content member into her mouth. 

“Hermione, stop, please,” he begged while his hips worked independently of his mouth. 

She lifted up from his knob and worked her hands up and down the shaft of his member. “No,” she worked then felt a chilly draft on her face where he lifted the covers. 

“Hermione,” He begged further. 

“Lay back and enjoy it,” she commanded. 

His head hit the pillow and she went back to sucking him off. She glanced through her hair and saw him trying to watch her perform magic on his wand but couldn’t keep his attention on her. “Fuck, not gonna last long, love.” 

She nodded and set to her task, stroking him under her lips while she bobbed up and down on his cock. 

He thrust up and she pushed down, almost to the point of gagging then pulled back enough when his hips locked and he bellowed her name. She couldn’t move with his hands on her head, holding her in place, feeling him moving hypnotically. 

He finished and it wasn’t unpleasant. The calming draught she occasionally needed tasted considerably worse than Liquid Ron. 

His hands finally unlocked out of her hair and he fell back into the bedclothes, completely spent. 

“Ron? Are you ok?” 

“Merlin, Hermione! Where’d you get that idea? That’s one fucking amazing way to wake up in the morning.” 

She snuggled into his side again, tucked under his slightly sweaty arm and chest. “I thought you might enjoy that, this morning, after what happened yesterday.” She blushed again and wouldn’t look at him. 

“You thought I was still mad last night, after shagging me stupid, and you thought I’d like my knob polished as an apology?” He chuckled. “Love, I’m not mad and you don’t have to do that for me if you won’t want to. I thought,” he broke off and instead looked up at the ceiling, “I thought you weren’t interested in such. That’s why I didn’t push or ask or even hint about _that_.” 

“But Ron,” she whispered into his chest, “I wanted to reciprocate.” 

“You didn’t do that out of guilt, at all?” He put a very long finger under her chin to tip her face up to him. She shook her head. “Listen, blokes talk. I’m not going to lie about that. I know that what you just did is, well, kinda gross to some women. That’s why I wasn’t going to ask you to do that. But blimey, you did that.” 

“You didn’t enjoy it?” 

“I didn’t say that, did I? I fucking loved it.” 

“Ron, language.” 

“Hypocrite. I was cursing earlier and you didn’t say a thing.” 

“My mouth was a little busy, if you recall.” She smirked at he laughed at her cheek. 

“I’ll give you that.” 

“You could have asked me.” She pulled her arms up to his chest and leaned on it, looking at him in the dim candlelight. “You love doing _that_ for me so why not give back to you?” 

“Hermione, look,” he blew out a breath while trying to find what he wanted to say among the spots on the shadowed ceiling, “you picked me and I’m occasionally boggled at it. I know I act a git sometimes and make a fool of myself, especially when I get jealous for reasons I won’t get into yet.” 

“The locket, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. Look, I promise to tell you, someday, when I can. I still just…”

“Ron, it’s OK. But look at me.” 

He looked back at his girlfriend lying across his chest. Her hair was a mess, from sex and sleep. Her face was slightly drawn still, even though she was eating again while at school. She was still too thin for his tastes but at least she wasn’t the emaciated lover he left behind when she rode off on the train for Hogwarts back in September. 

“You’re it for me, Ron. No one else. No one else holds a candle to your sunlight. You are the only one in my life who is there at my worst so you’re the only one who will benefit from me at my best. “

“You mean that, don’t you?” 

“I do,” she whispered before toying with a few stray hairs on his chest. “You were there, by my side, when everyone else was asleep, talking for hours when I couldn’t sleep. You were there when I had my meltdown with your Mum and when I rowed with mine.” 

“Where else would I be?” he answered candidly. 

“That’s my point. You are there at those worst moments. But then you get so angry when things happen that upset you, things that I don’t fathom why you are so upset, and we row because I don’t understand and the _only_ way that you can comprehend that I’m not going anywhere as long as you want me, is by demonstrating, just like you do, how much you mean to me. 

“Do you really think I could ever do that,” she blushed hard, “or even contemplate doing what I just did with anyone else?” 

“No, not really.” He looked away for a second, trying to hide his thoughts from Hermione, who could read him like an open book. 

“And you heard it from the guys in training, right, that girls who do that are, well, scarlet women. Isn’t that why you never were going to ask that of me, right?” 

He nodded emphatically. “How’d you know?” 

“I listen too.” 

“Oh.” 

“Do you really think I am arsed what others think of me?” 

“Well, maybe.” 

“It quit hurting years ago, Ron, until that mad witch got ahold of me.” 

“Hermione,” he winced, “I didn’t mean –“

“Ron, it’s ok. Inside this room when it’s just us, we will be honest with one another, no matter how much it hurts at first. Do you understand that?” 

“I do, but Hermione-“

“And I’m being honest. I will happily polish your knob, sometimes. If there’s something I won’t do, you’ll know. I won’t hesitate to tell you I don’t want to try something.” 

He grinned. “Sorted. So Hermione,” 

“Yes, Ron?” 

“Now that you polished my knob, anything you need or want to do this morning?” 

“As a matter of fact, there is.” 

“And that is?” He leered at her bare back. 

“I’m famished. I could use breakfast.” 

“So you don’t want me to,” he waved his hand over her body. 

“Maybe later, after breakfast.” 

“But I have to go to work at 9,” he pouted. 

“I know. But I’m sure that I will need your attention and affection after you get home from work tonight.” She grinned. “After dealing with the family today, I might need a tongue lashing.” 

“Now that, I will gladly do.” 

Hermione rolled to the other side of the bed and stepped out of the bedclothes. Ron watched her bum wobble while she went to get her housecoat. “But if you want to join me in the shower before breakfast, that would be lovely.” She smiled and opened the door to the landing. 

“Brilliant! Coming!” He raced after her in only his skin. “I could use a hot shower myself.” 


End file.
